


I'll Be Home For Christmas If Only In My Dreams

by indiefic



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Steggy Secret Santa, set pre-season 1 Agent Carter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:12:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefic/pseuds/indiefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy's first Christmas after Steve went down with the Valkyrie.  Written for the Steggy secret santa exchange on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Home For Christmas If Only In My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> For [kelslk](http://kelslk.tumblr.com/) for the Steggy Secret Santa exchange on Tumblr.

 

 **December 1945 -** **New York**

 

**The Morning After**

 

Peggy woke slowly, blinking in the gray morning light.  She went very still as she realized nothing looked familiar.  She was in a strange bed and there was the heavy weight of an arm thrown around her waist.  Her lips felt raw.  And her hand hurt?  She could see her dress, a pile of crimson satin, on the floor next to the bed.  Her shoes were closer to the door.

 

She remembered the party last night.  And then hazy recollections.  Daniel in his Christmas finest.  Howard trying to catch her under the mistletoe.  Jack grabbing her ass.  So many endless glasses of Champagne.

 

She screwed her eyes shut.

 

Oh God, was this another nightmare, like the ones that plagued her after Steve disappeared?  Some fresh hell to haunt her.  How much did she have to drink?  She was tucked under the covers and against a warm body.  Slowly, she rolled over.

 

He was asleep, his face half buried in the pillow.   _Oh, God_.

 

* * *

**Last Night**

 

Peggy tucked the coatcheck receipt into her clutch and glanced in a nearby mirror, assuring herself that her hair was still perfectly coiffed.  It was a Saturday night, Christmas Eve, and the Stork Club was packed with holiday revelers, many, like her, attending parties.  Peggy caught sight of Agent Yauch and Agent Ramirez and smiled, making her way to the cluster of tables claimed by the SSR.  Peggy doubted this was the typical SSR office party, but Howard had inserted himself into the mix and it had predictably spiraled out of control.

 

“Evenin’, Carter,” Thompson said, nodding and then looking her over from head to toe.

 

Peggy bristled, but bit back a retort, accepting a proffered glass of Champagne from Rose and downing half of it in a series of gulps.

 

“Go easy, Peg,” Rose said under her breath.  “These jerks won’t hesitate to take advantage.”

 

Peggy smiled and said quietly, “If I don’t start drinking, I’m going to start hitting and that would certainly put a damper on the festivities.”

 

Rose inclined her head in acknowledgement, but Peggy didn’t have the impression Rose was particularly opposed to Peggy hitting people.  Honestly, Peggy wasn’t particularly opposed herself.  Though she suspected fisticuffs wouldn’t help her assimilation into the SSR group go any more smoothly.  She’d been in the New York office for three months and so far, she’d been assigned to such stimulating tasks as filing, collecting lunch orders and answering the phones.

 

“Well, Stark sure knows how to throw a party,” Rose said, looking around the club’s glittering interior.  It was more garish than usual thanks to the holiday decorations.

 

“Indeed,” Peggy agreed sourly.  The Stork Club.  Of course, Howard had no idea what had been said during her final conversation with Steve.  Phillips, mercifully, had kept that out of the official record.  Howard had no idea what association the club might hold for Peggy.  She’d actually been here several times previously, with Howard.  But that had been before Project Rebirth.  And more importantly, before she met Steve.

 

Peggy seemed unable to escape Steve’s memory the last few days.  She’d dreamed about him again, last night.  It had been months since she’d done that.  At least it wasn’t a nightmare.  And it hadn’t been some painful glimpse of a life they’d never have.  It had been mostly a memory.  Last Christmas.  With Steve.  It hadn’t been a particularly joyous holiday.  He’d still been so raw from Bucky’s loss.  And with the war grinding on, there was no shortage of tragedies to bring down the mood.  

 

They spent most of the night talking.  Well, Steve did most of the talking, regaling her with stories of his and Bucky’s exploits.  Peggy listened intently, glad for any opportunity to help lighten his load.  He finally walked her back to her tent and she had pushed up on tiptoe, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before ducking inside.  It was sweet and simple.  Things that her life was sorely lacking these days.

 

An arm wrapped around Peggy’s waist and she was pulled against a body, barely managing to turn her head in time to avoid Howard’s sloppy kiss.  “Hey,” he complained, sputtering as he removed her hair from his mouth.

 

“Serves you right,” she said sourly.  “There isn’t even any mistletoe.”

 

“Yes there is,” Howard said, waggling his eyebrows as he pointed to the brim of the ridiculous hat he was wearing.  Where there was, indeed, a sprig of mistletoe.  She considered telling him it was poisonous and decided against it.  It would serve him right if he found out the hard way.

 

Shaking her head, Peggy pressed a hard kiss to his cheek before pulling out of his grasp.  For as much as Howard irritated her, he was also a dear friend.  And while he wasn’t above trying to cop a feel, he also never underestimated her.  That was a feeling she sorely missed.

 

The party was well attended and nearly everyone had spouses or dates.  Krzeminski had both, but had apparently decided to bring his wife.  Peggy wanted to feel bad for her, being shackled to an oaf like Krzeminski.  But the woman was so abrasive that Peggy found herself thinking they suited each other quite well.

 

Peggy had hoped General Phillips might make an appearance, but so far, there was no sign of him.  Peggy spent most of the evening fending off Howard’s half-hearted advances and talking to the girls from the switchboard.  Like her, they were all Agents, with intellect and abilities so far woefully unutilized.  

 

The libations flowed freely and Peggy had lost count of how many glasses of Champagne she’d had.  Enough that she wasn’t terribly irritated when her male co-workers started pressing kisses to her cheeks.  Even slightly tipsy, though, she drew the line at being groped.  Jack grabbed her from behind and put his hand on her ass.  Before she could spin around, he was gone, but she vowed to herself that if he tried it again, he’d be sorry.  It was true enough that she was lonely, but she wasn’t _that_ lonely.

 

Daniel was one of the few Agents, like herself, who came stag.  Peggy had no idea why he wasn’t seeing anyone.  He was an attractive man and a very decent human being to boot.  She would have expected him to settle down when he returned from war.

 

“I guess I just haven’t found the right girl,” Daniel said when Peggy posed the question to him.

 

“Have you looked?” she countered, arching an eyebrow.

 

He chuckled. “Not exactly.”

 

“Well there’s your problem,” she said, smacking him on the shoulder.  How many drinks had she had?

 

“And what about you, Carter?” he asked, turning the tables.  “Looks like Stark’s carrying quite the torch for you.”

 

Peggy rolled her eyes.  “Howard is a pig,” she said.  “And too good a friend for there to be anything more.”

 

Daniel gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.  “And there’s no one else?” he asked.

 

She took a breath and released it slowly, forcing a bright smile.  “No,” she said as lightly as she could.  “No one.”

 

Daniel nodded and Peggy had the feeling he was filing that information away for later.  “Hey,” he said, to both Peggy and Rose, “looks like you both need another drink.  I’ll be right back.”

 

Rose leaned over and gave Peggy a look.

 

“What?” Peggy asked.

 

Rose shook her head.  “I get the feeling you’re not big on office romances, but if I was you I’d be reconsidering.”

 

Peggy frowned and laughed.  “Daniel?”

 

Rose nodded.

 

Rolling her eyes, Peggy said, “I need to powder my nose.  Don’t let Li take my seat.”

 

“Sure thing, Peg,” Rose said.

 

The club was even more crowded now than when she’d arrived.  Thanks to the alcohol, it was considerably louder as well.  Peggy made her way to the ladies’ room, artfully dodging out of the way of several opportunistic mistletoe ambushes.  She stood in line for a seemingly interminable amount of time and when she headed back to the tables, there were so many people in the club that she could barely see where she was going.

 

It was impossible to make any headway without pressing against other people, but this was _not_ incidental contact.  Someone grabbed her around the waist and hauled her backward.   _Jack_.  She’d had more than enough of Jack tonight.  Vowing not to let him get away with it again, Peggy was already swinging as she turned.  She nailed him right in the chin as hard as she could and he doubled over with a grunt.

 

Except that it wasn’t Jack.

 

Peggy stood there, eyes wide, staring down at the back of his head.  “ _Steve_?” she said, loud enough to be heard over the din.

 

He looked up at her, wincing.  Slowly, he straightened up, rubbing his jaw.  “Sorry,” he said, “I tried to get your attention, but it’s so loud.  I didn’t mean to grab you.”

 

She stood there, gaping at him, mindless of the crush of bodies.  She’d had _a lot_ to drink.  But she’d never experienced a full fledge hallucination from alcohol before.  “Steve?” she said again.

 

He gave her a small, slightly worried smile and nodded.  “Yeah.”

 

She opened her mouth to say a hundred different things, but none of it seemed appropriate.  She finally settled for throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

 

His hands found her, one at the back of her head, the other at her waist as he pulled her close.

 

It wasn’t the most graceful or practiced kiss she’d ever had.  But it was, without a doubt, the best.  She finally pulled back far enough to speak, but kept her arms firmly around his neck.  “How?”

 

“Three weeks ago,” he said, slightly breathless.  “They found me, brought me home.  Howard and Phillips both knew, but they thought it best for me to tell you myself.”  He looked around the interior of the club.  “I’m a couple months late,” he said.  “Sorry about that.”

 

Quite unexpectedly, she burst into tears, nodding as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder.  “As long as you’re here,” she said, “it’s okay.”

 

They eventually pulled apart, though they didn’t release one another.  Peggy took note of the pinched look around his eyes.  He still seemed very pale.  And too thin.  She suspected that being surrounded by so many people and so much noise was hell on his nerves.  “At the risk of sounding forward,” she said, “do you want to get out of here?”

 

“Yes,” he said with obvious gratitude.

 

* * *

 

 

Outside, snow was falling.  Not enough to make things unpleasant, but enough to give no doubt that it was Christmas.  It muffled sounds and made the entire world seem smaller, more intimate.  Peggy immediately looped her arm through Steve’s tucking herself against his side, giving him no opportunity to retreat to a polite distance.  He didn’t seem to mind.

 

Some of the tension seemed to go out of him once they were outside.  Peggy demanded that he tell her what happened.  He related what he knew, all second hand information.  Apparently he really didn’t remember much until he woke up a week and a half earlier.

 

“I can’t believe Howard managed to keep quiet,” Peggy said.

 

“I think it killed part of him,” Steve said seriously.  He arched an eyebrow and looked down at her.  “He consoled himself by planning that party.  I’m pretty sure he wanted me to jump out of a cake.”

 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Peggy said seriously.

 

“Me too,” he agreed.  “Anyway, I was watching for a while.  When I saw you head for the ladies’ room, I decided to try and catch up with you.  It’s not like I was there to see anybody else.  And I really didn’t feel like playing dancing monkey for Howard.”

 

She looked up at him and smiled softly and then hugged his arm tighter.

 

* * *

 

 

They checked into the hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.  Peggy knew it didn’t fool the desk clerk and she didn’t care.  Steve looked less comfortable with the ruse, but he also didn’t voice any opposition so Peggy ran with it.

 

Though she’d been bolder in her life, Peggy blushed as she unlocked the door to the hotel room, with Steve standing right behind her.  She turned on the lamp on the nightstand and sat down on the bed, looking up at him.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “I share a studio apartment with a roommate and I assume you don’t have your own place yet.  I couldn’t come up with another place where we could be alone and warm on short notice.”

 

“It’s okay,” Steve said, removing his coat and taking a seat on the bed next to her, far closer than she would have expected, though she found it very encouraging.

 

Now that they were alone and it was quiet, Peggy wasn’t quite sure what to say.  “I - “ she started and stopped.  She looked at him intently.  “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said, hating the way her voice wobbled.

 

He gave her a small smile.  “I’m relieved,” he said, “because when you hit me with that sucker punch, I thought maybe I read the situation wrong.”

 

She frowned at him.  “Are you making a joke?”

 

He opened his mouth to protest.  “No, Peg, I - “

 

She silenced him with a kiss.  It wasn’t the frantic hunger they’d shared at the club, or even the reckless glee before he jumped aboard the Valkyrie.  It was slow and sweet and warmed her to the tips of her toes.

 

She finally pulled back, her breath coming in short puffs.  “I missed you,” she said quietly.

 

“I’m here now,” he said, the apology clear in his voice.

 

For a long time, they talked, holding hands, fingers twined together, stories regularly interrupted by kisses.  Somehow, they ended up laying on the bed, face to face.  Peggy was still tipsy and it was so warm and everything was so pleasant and fuzzy.

 

* * *

 

 

**The Morning After**

 

He was asleep, his face half buried in the pillow.   _Oh, God._ Staring at him in shock, tears pricked at her eyes.  “ _Steve_?”

 

He blinked slowly, heavy lashes opening to reveal the clear deep blue of his eyes.  “Morning,” he said, his voice scratchy with sleep.  He gave her a small smile.  

 

She blinked and shook her head, unable to believe it.  Slowly, she moved closer to him.  Reaching out, she touched his stubble roughened cheek.   She was wearing her slip and he was in his undershirt and trousers.  They were both sleep rumpled and warm.  “Is this real?”

 

“Definitely real,” he said, smiling more broadly.  “I got the bruise to prove it.”

 

She moved her fingers to his jaw.  Despite his teasing words, there was no bruise.  Not that she expected one.  Her knuckles, however were another matter.  She held her hand up, looking at them.

 

Steve pushed himself up on his elbow and gently took her hand in his, looking at the bruises.  He started to move and then stopped.  Seeming to steel his nerve, he moved again, self-consciously pressing gentle kisses to the backs of her knuckles.  A blush bloomed across the tops of his cheekbones.

 

Moving her hand, she touched his jaw again and pulled him close, pressing her lips to his.  He sighed and she threaded her fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss.  His lips were soft and pliant and as she touched her tongue to his, he shuddered, his hand tightening at her waist.  

 

He gathered her close, laying down with her in his arms.  He nuzzled against her jaw.  “A fella could get used to a homecoming like this.”

 

She smiled, but tried to make her voice stern.  “A fella could have had a homecoming like this weeks ago, if he’d bothered to mention he was home,” she said tartly.

 

“Top secret,” he said, kissing the hollow beneath her ear.  “Need to know only.”

 

She tried vainly to concentrate on his words, her palm splayed against his chest, skimming over the soft cotton that covered firm muscle.  “And you think I didn’t need to know?” she demanded.

 

“Wasn’t my call,” he said, sounding thoroughly distracted as he pulled the spaghetti strap of her slip off her shoulder and pressed kisses to her skin.  He stopped, taking a deep breath.  He looked at her, catching her gaze and holding it.  “I woulda called, Peg, if it had been up to me.”

 

She smiled, slow and sweet, touched by his earnest confession.  “I know.”

 

He kissed her, more enthusiasm, less control.  It was exactly what she wanted.  “When I woke up this morning,” she said, between kisses, “I was afraid it was another dream.”

 

He groaned, levering himself up on one elbow, pulling her partially under him as he leaned over her.  He broke off, chuckling, breathing hard.  “Dream about me a lot?” he teased.

 

“Yes,” she said seriously.  She met his eyes and hooked a leg around his waist.  He was wearing far too many clothes.  He swallowed audibly.  “I dream about you, Steve,” she said.  “I wake up aching for you.”

 

His eyes screwed shut and he shuddered, his hips pressing against her for a moment before he pulled back, laughing awkwardly.  “Uh, Peg, maybe we should - “

 

She kissed him again and he didn’t try to pull away.  She knew, she did.  He was back.  They had time to take it slow.  But what was slower than six months gone, thinking he was lost forever?  She didn’t want to take anything slow.  She wanted to stake a claim.  Definitively.

 

Reaching down, beneath the covers, she shimmied, pulling her slip over her head and tossing it away.  He stared at her, his breath coming in short puffs.  She watched his throat as he swallowed thickly.  Touching the strap of her brassiere, she looked at him.  “Do you want me to take this off too?” she asked.

 

His gaze flicked from her face to her chest and back.  He nodded, like he didn’t trust himself to speak.

 

Reaching awkwardly behind herself as she lay on the bed, she released the row of eyelets.  The material went lax, but still covered her breasts.  The sheet had ridden down, pooling at her waist.  Slowly, she pulled the brassiere away, dropping it to the floor.  He groaned, reaching for her.  He didn’t paw.  His fingers were gentle, his touch light as he explored the silky texture of her breast.

 

“ _Peg_ ,” he groaned, lowering his head to press frantic kisses across her collarbone and then lower.  

 

She smiled to herself, biting down on her bottom lip as she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him to her.  Gasping, she arched her back as his lips sealed around her nipple.  She moved her hands from his hair to his back, grasping handfuls of undershirt and tugging at it.  Reluctantly, he released her nipple from his mouth and pulled the undershirt over his head, mindlessly tossing it away.  He immediately lowered himself over her again and they both reveled in the feel of skin against skin.  

 

He nuzzled at her breasts.  His face was scratchy against her delicate skin, but even that filled her with glee.  Her hands traced over his thickly muscled shoulders.  How many times had she imagined what this would be like?  Truthfully, there were things she hadn’t imagined.  He was _heavy_.  And hot.  His skin felt like it was burning up.  But she wouldn’t have traded it for anything.  It wasn’t perfect.  But it was so very real.

 

Tugging at him, she urged him up for more kisses.  He complied eagerly, rearranging limbs so that he was over her, braced on his elbows.  She parted her thighs, cradling his hips against her own, one leg wrapped around his waist, the other tangled with his leg.  He pressed his hips against hers and she could feel how excited he was, even if the frantic nature of his kisses hadn’t already given that away.

 

For endless minutes, they kissed and explored, grinding against each other with barely contained need.  Finally, it was too much for Peggy and she pushed at his chest.  He seemed confused, but he moved off her, looking hurt until she forced him onto his back and climbed on top of him.

 

His eyes rolled back as she rubbed against him through far too many layers.  Frustrated, she quickly dispensed with her panties.  Looking at him, she stopped at the sight of his expression, a little shocked and incredibly turned on.  Their eyes locked and without breaking contact, she reached for the fly of his trousers.  He groaned as she traced the shape of him through the coarse material.  Biting down on her bottom lip, she deftly opened his fly and started inching the material down his hips.  

 

She had the impression that he thought he should protest, but he didn’t.  After a moment’s hesitation, he assisted, shoving both his trousers and shorts down his legs, kicking them, and the covers, away.  His hands immediately found her hips as she straddled him.  She reached down and stroked him lightly, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

 

“Ready?” she asked.

 

He nodded quickly.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah.”

 

Grasping him in her hand, she slowly sank down onto him, her mouth falling open at the feel of him, so hard, sliding inside her.  Steve seemed similarly overwhelmed, neck muscles corded, fingertips biting into her hips.  She was close, so close, from only this.  God, she wanted him.  She took him to the hilt and stopped, breathing hard.  Taking one of his hands, she moved it from her hip to where they were joined, showing him how to rub her.  She cried out, her internal muscles fluttering around him.  “Yes,” she said, nodding.  “Harder.”  He rubbed her harder and that was all it took.  Her back arched and she hissed his name, clenching around him.  

 

After her release washed over her, she leaned forward, splaying her hands against his chest.  He looked at her, his brow furrowed with obvious concentration.  She smiled at him.  “Your turn,” she said with a wink.

 

He opened his mouth to say something, but she started to move and he snapped it shut again.  She rolled her hips, taking him shallow, then deep.  Part of her still couldn’t believe this was real, that he was here, that they were finally together in both the figurative and completely literal sense.  He pulled his knees up, bracing his heels against the bed and using the leverage to drive up into her.

 

She yelped his name, intentionally tightening around him and he groaned, his fingers biting into her hips.  She would have bruises.  She did not care.  He was close, she knew, and she redoubled her efforts, riding him harder, faster.

 

He grabbed her hips tighter, slamming her down against him one final time as he came, hissing through his teeth.   Peggy sat there, breathing hard, watching him.  Eventually, he relaxed, head flopping back against the pillow as he blinked up at her.

 

She smiled at him.  “I missed you.”

 

He looked at her and shook his head, pushing himself up into a sitting position.  His hands framed her face, holding her as he kissed her, long and hard.  “I love you,” he said.

 

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nodding.

 

* * *

 

**Monday morning**

 

Jack looked at Peggy, frowning.  He motioned toward his face.  “Some nice ... whisker burn ya got there, Marge.”

 

Peggy blinked at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeming embarrassed.  As if she hadn’t already known her face and chest were slightly abraded.  She’d spent the better part of half an hour trying to camouflage it with cosmetics as best she could.

 

Jack’s eyes narrowed.  “Henry said he thought he saw you duck out of the party with someone.  I figured he was lit, but he was right, eh?  Guess we all know what kinda goose you got for Christmas.”

 

“Oh, Agent Thompson,” she said dryly.  “You have _no_ idea.”

 

Moments later, Steve stepped out of Dooley’s office, the Chief at his side, doing his best to pretend to be unimpressed.  He was failing miserably.  Not that Peggy didn’t sympathize.  Steve in uniform was an impressive sight.  (Though truthfully, it had nothing on Steve out of uniform.)

 

“Holy shit,” Jack cursed.

 

Dooley and Steve walked over to where she and Jack stood.  Peggy watched as Dooley introduced Steve and Jack.  Jack managed to keep his jaw off the ground, but just barely.  Peggy suspected that Steve’s handshake was a shade firmer than it needed to be.

 

The Chief looked at Peggy.  “I guess you already know Carter,” he said to Steve.

 

Steve nodded, doing his best to keep from smiling.  “Agent Carter.”

 

“Captain Rogers,” Peggy replied, doing a much better job of sounding aloof.

 

Jack looked from Peggy to Steve and back again.  She could see when it hit him and she gave him a nasty smile.  Turning to Steve, Peggy said, “I trust you had an enjoyable holiday, Captain.”

 

Steve coughed to cover a laugh.  Clearing his throat, he said, “I did.  Thank you.”

 

Peggy nodded.  “Well, boys,” she said, “unlike some of you, I have things to do.”  She turned, heading for her desk.

 

“Agent Carter,” Steve said.

 

She stopped and looked at him.

 

“Later,” he said, “I would like to go over some case notes with you.  If you have time.”

 

“Of course,” she said with a smile.

 

END STORY

 


End file.
